Slumbering Hearts
by mini princess93
Summary: TxG. She was apathetic and disillusioned. He was everything she wasn't prepared for. Yet somehow, something unexpected emerged. One-shot documenting sporadic moments between their first meeting and second kiss.


**A/N**: This was all inspired by a mental image of Gabriella lying down on some park bench. Random, I know, so this very well may suck.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own _High School Musical_ or any of it's characters. But I'm sure you already knew that.

* * *

**_"Slumbering Hearts"  
_**by mini princess93

* * *

It had become almost a tradition for her. The one thing she did every time she moved to a new house, was find somewhere that she could have all to herself. Even before she started to unpack, she would tell her mom that she was going for a walk then she would explore until she could find a suitable place to escape, to think. Smart chicks always like to think.

In Dallas, she would hang out on the porch of some dilapidated vacant old house on Willow Street with a rickety porch swing and a dozen dead potted plants sitting on the railing. In Atlanta, her go-to spot was a massive, smoothed rock in the middle of the woods behind her house, covered in moss. In Tuscan, her apartment building had this cute little rooftop (that was technically off limits to tenants but no one bothered her) with real pretty views over the whole neighborhood. The big winner for Albuquerque, New Mexico was a bench in a local park. Gabriella hated clichés but it was a nice bench next to an expansive lake, surrounded by trees with the moon in the exact right position to reflect elegantly off the gentle rippling of the water's surface. There was also a child-friendly playground behind her but it was currently deserted. It was getting pretty late after all.

As soon as Gabriella had stumbled across this little gem, she plopped her backpack down and sat and watched the scenery for a little while. That got boring really quickly so she then laid down, her backpack supporting her neck and her knees bent in front of her and arms crossed over her stomach while Regina Spektor serenaded her through her dirty white earbuds. Pretty loudly too, she deduced, had there been someone sitting next to her, they would be able to hear every lyric.

And she'd been that way for hours.

Yes, her neck was starting to cramp and the unforgiving nature of the bench wasn't doing her back any favors but she didn't want to move. It was cold too. A slight giggle to herself. That's what she got for being out at eight o'clock in the middle of January. Just for fun, she blew little clouds of condensed water vapor through her rapidly numbing lips and watched them hover above her before dispersing into the air as she laughed a little more. Craning her neck back further, she did it again, seeing how it materialized then disappeared. It was there, then it was gone. It was practically a life philosophy for her. Poof.

The world looks very different upside down, Gabriella decided, tilting her head back further and further and further. That was obvious but she was having a lot of fun with this fact as she observed the upside down swings, the upside-down slide, the upside-down jungle gym, the upside-down...well, you get the point. And then suddenly, her topsy-turvy vision included the upside-down image of someone's crotch.

Um, what?

_Oh dear_.

Gabriella sat up quickly, feeling her cheeks heat up as she pulled out her headphones. That wasn't what she was expecting. Whirling around in her seat, she found herself looking at a (really cute) guy, giving her a calculating look.

"Can I help you?" Powering down her iPod, she spoke as her heart rate slowed gradually. He didn't say anything at first, only staring at her. He had pretty eyes, Gabriella found out quickly. Gorgeous, actually, a cerulean blue that seemed to just pierce through just about anything. But the whole silently stalking vibe he was giving off was steadily reducing from his attractiveness. So she turned around again and relaxed slightly. She took self-defense classes, she had pepper spray in her purse – she was set.

"You're on my bench. " He finally said, sounding like he couldn't believe he was actually speaking those words. And boy...he did not look happy. Over a bench. Good lord.

She giggled in spite of his serious expression. "Oh, _your_ bench? Who are you, a five year old with possession issues?" She laughed, rolling her eyes at him as he frowned at her. She didn't notice as she continued. "You gonna go crying to your mommy because the mean girl at the park stole _your_ bench?" Another snort. She was practically falling over herself laughing.

"I'm twenty, thank you very much." He protested defensively, looking mighty annoyed that she was so blatantly mocking him.

The poorly disguised snicker that followed hardly appeased him. "Potato, potahto." She said, waving a hand dismissively before reaching into her bag for her battered pack of Marlboro Lights. Sticking a cigarette between her teeth, she produced a chipped silver Zippo and with a carefully aimed snap, she held the flickering flame to the butt of her cigarette and inhaled deeply.

Despite not knowing her, and not having the best first impression of her, he couldn't help himself. Coming around to stand in front of her, he automatically said, "You shouldn't smoke."

"Yeah well, you shouldn't stare at seventeen year old girls for too long." She shot back coolly, ashing her cigarette between her fingers. "It might give people the wrong idea." Pointedly, she took another deep drag and blew smoke in his direction.

This girl was quite the piece of work. Without thinking, he tugged the cigarette from her loose fingers and stamped it into the ground, enjoying the shocked expression that graced her visage. It was self-preservation if nothing else. Secondhand smoke and all that jazz.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, stamping her foot on the pressed dirt.

"You shouldn't smoke." He repeated more forcefully.

She rolled her eyes. These holier-than-thou types really pissed her off. "Screw you," She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to still be able to hear it while producing another cigarette. The second she lit it, he, again, took it from her and ground it with his heel.

"Stop doing that." She demanded irritably, folding her arms in front of her.

"Stop smoking." He retorted mimicking her girlish high pitch, copying her actions emphatically.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Her eyes narrowed at him and his stupid, goddamn condescension. "You're not my mother, there's absolutely no legitimate reason that I should listen to you."

"I'm pre-med at U of A." He informed her with a certain air of superiority that caused Gabriella to disregard what he was saying the second it was out of his mouth.

"Well, bully for you." She said moodily turning away from him. A sigh. Weren't teenagers supposed to outgrow their surly, "fuck-the-world" phase by the time they were fifteen? Nevertheless, the walking, talking abnormality in front of him plowed on. "Fine, you know what? I'll just smoke when you're not here."

"Would you like the medical breakdown of how exactly the shit in that cigarette destroys your lungs? I'll even dumb it down, just for you." He added sarcastically. And his fucking condescension reared its ugly head again.

Gabriella had known this guy for a grand total of about ten minutes and she already didn't like him. No one liked a know-it-all. And while that label could be applied to herself on a daily basis, she liked to think she wasn't nearly as obnoxious about it.

Childishly, she stuck out her tongue and pouted. "Bite me," She quipped viciously.

"Yes well, before that, we have to resolve this bench issue." He continued conversationally.

Gabriella glared at him and his stupid, sardonic smirk. "Finders keepers, losers weepers," She said petulantly, nose high up in the air. "Issue resolved."

He chucked, apparently not offended one bit. "Now who's the immature five year old?"

"Shut up." She huffed with a scowl. Then sighed. "Fine, since I'm feeling so _magnanimous_, I'll share." She scooted back to make room with her back pressed against arm of the bench and crossed her legs Indian style. "There, happy?"

He took the seat beside her. "You have no idea." He returned dryly.

"You're welcome."

They sat there in silence for a few moments while Gabriella looked everywhere but her newest companion. Finally, she glanced at her cell phone and realized that her mom was going to start wondering where she was pretty soon.

"Well, I'm gonna get out of here." Gabriella said softly, slinging her beige messenger bag over her shoulder and beginning to walk away. After a few seconds, she turned back to him. "And just to let you know, I'm not some lazy slacker," She told him, touching on the implications of one of his earlier statements. "I'm actually an honors student."

"Really?" His eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs.

She shrugged, and tilted her head contemplatively. "I wouldn't believe me either."

He was left befuddled while she flounced away, lighting up her third cigarette.

* * *

"Oh." She said dully as Troy took his seat next to her the following week. "You again."

"Yep," He said cheerfully despite her frosty reception. "Me again. Oh look, that again." He said, referring to the glowing cancer stick settled between her lips.

She rolled her eyes. She didn't even wait for his interference before she put it out. "There grandpa." It was amazing how much less of a juvenile delinquent she looked like without her cigarettes.

"Thank you." He nodded appreciatively. "And it's not "Grandpa", my name's Troy."

Glancing at him, he looked at her expectantly. "Am I supposed to give you my name now?" She crossed her arms, cursing the fact that she'd come out in nothing but a thin t-shirt and was beginning to freeze her ass off.

"That's the idea." He said pleasantly.

"Fine. I'm Gabriella." Her introduction was brusque with minimal friendliness.

"Nice to meet you Gabriella." He said amiably, looking straight ahead of him. A second later, he leaned his head towards Gabriella and said quietly, like it was some kind of secret, "I'm just trying to help, by the way." A slight pause. Gabriella was hoping that he wouldn't say anything else. "So how long have you been smoking?" Yeah, didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon.

She thought about it for a second or two. "Since Sacramento." she recalled, remembering her first boyfriend, Damien, in freshman year handing her the first Camel cigarette. She practically hacked up a lung the first time but got used to it pretty quickly. Then she started liking it.

"Sacramento." He repeated, looking utterly confused. "Like, the city?"

"It's how I measure time." She explained nonchalantly. He blinked, still completely lost. "I move a lot. Ever year or so since I was six."

"Really. So how long are you in Albuquerque for?" Huh, he actually looked interested. No way.

"My mom said that we're not moving until I graduate at least." "Said" being the operative word. Gabriella was nothing if not a realist. And realistically, her mother was only saying that to placate her. But she wasn't a child for God's sake, she could handle the truth.

Her words weren't happy or sad or even angry or hopeful. "Is that a good thing?"

Good thing, bad thing, Gabriella could hardly distinguish anymore. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought that Troy actually wanted to get to know her. But they were practically strangers so that was impossible.

She shrugged. "It'd be nice but who knows if it'll actually happen."

"What, does she say this every time you move?" Question after question, Troy was relentless. In any case, Gabriella decided to humor him for a little longer.

"Well, no." She admitted truthfully.

"So it's not like she's lied about this." Troy gathered.

How annoyingly optimistic. He probably had parents that were still happily married. Gabriella would bet money that he was born and raised in Albuquerque. She didn't believe that he wasn't sheltered per se, just blessed by life's rose-tinted glasses.

"About this, no. But she has lied to me." She clarified.

"About what?"

She considered it, remembering all those little white lies imparted upon her over the years.

"My dad. She tells me stupid crap like "he doesn't know what he's missing". B.S. He knows exactly what he's missing, he just doesn't care enough." Gabriella said bitterly. This was so strange, she hardly ever opened up to anyone yet here she was, talking to some guy that she was barely on a first-name basis with, talking about her dad. With her mom, her ex's name was taboo.

"That's harsh."

"If he doesn't care then I don't care." Gabriella stated with a stiff upper lip, shifting in her seat to sit up straighter. As if good posture could somehow make her more believable.

"About your failure of a father." He deadpanned with just a hint of disbelief. "You must handle disappointment like a pro."

"I don't get disappointed." She told him simply.

"You're kidding. Is your life just like, perfect or something?"

"Hah!" She laughed, reeking of irony. "Not even. I just don't have expectations."

He let out a low whistle, leaning forward to rest his broad forearms on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. "That's damn depressing." He said honestly, looking back at her.

"You're telling me." She grimaced, hugging herself tighter hoping to find some warmth.

"If it counts for anything, I think your dad's an idiot."

Gabriella didn't say anything, choosing only to try and quell her onslaught of goosebumps. Sighing, Troy tugged off his navy blue hoodie and draped it over Gabriella's hunched shoulders.

Looking up in surprise, she gave him a genuine, if not reluctant, smile. "Thanks."

She wasn't just talking about the sweatshirt.

* * *

When Troy found Gabriella at their bench the next Sunday, she had her face twisted in contemplation.

He didn't even have to ask before she spoke up. "Do you think kissing a girl who smokes is really like kissing an ashtray?" Who was she kissing? For some reason, that thought made him slightly uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't know." He answered honestly. He really had never kissed a girl who smoked.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Well that was helpful."

Then, without even a warning, she planted a kiss on Troy. His limbs flailed while his eyes stayed wide open and when she pulled back, he struggled to catch his breath again.

"Well?" She prompted.

"Nothing ash tray-like about it." He said with a strangled voice. He wanted to say something more, maybe something a little more personal but his brain refused to find the words. He was still reeling over the surprise.

"That's what I thought." She responded with a definitive nod.

It was amazing how she always got the last word in, Troy marveled as she gave him a cheeky smile and strolled away from him, down the sidewalk.

* * *

"Where are your cigarettes?" Troy asked with a smirk one day as Gabriella aimlessly ignited, extinguished and reignited her lighter.

"I ran out." She pouted at him, pocketing her Zippo.

"Really." It wasn't a question, more like a declaration of victory. Oh he so knew what he did. Asshole.

"Yeah, thanks to you. You threw away like half of my last pack." She shot at him resentfully.

"Why can't you buy more?" And he didn't even apologize. Typical.

"I'm seventeen," She reminded him. "and I'm not fooling anyone into thinking I'm any older." At least she was self-aware.

"How did you get them before?"

"My boyfriend."

Gabriella had a boyfriend. It was news to him, considering that he never saw her with anyone else, not even any girl friends. In fact, this was possibly the first time she'd actually mentioned someone else her own age.

"Your boyfriend?" He asked incredulously.

"Don't need to sound so surprised." She said crossly. "Well, I guess he's my ex-boyfriend" she amended after a beat.

His name was Andrew and he was kind of dull, Gabriella remembered. Cute with dark blonde hair and puppy dog brown eyes but sports obsessed. And considering Gabriella hardly knew a baseball from an orange, it was not the best match up. She was almost relieved when her mom informed her that they were moving and Gabriella had the perfect excuse to break up with him.

"You miss him?" He questioned.

"Not really."

That wasn't exactly the answer he was expecting. "Why not?"

"He was kind of lame." She shrugged like that's what everyone thought of their ex-boyfriend.

"Then why did you date him?"

"He bought me cigarettes." She answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, of course." Troy nodded, playing along. But in reality, he didn't get it at all. The right hair flip or coy giggle and she could have any guy eating out of the palm of her hand, even older guys. But she picked a dud. Go figure.

A long melodramatic sigh. Designed to tug at his heartstrings? Hm, perhaps. "And since I don't really know anyone here over eighteen besides you or my mom, I've got no one here to buy me them unless..."

If only he wasn't so damn smart. "You really think I'm going to help you get die prematurely?" Rhetorical question but Gabriella was almost tempted to answer him anyway. "I'm not an enabler."

Another sigh, but this one tainted of defeat and accompanied by a perfunctory angst-y teen eye roll. But she smiled at him anyway. "Just thought I'd ask."

* * *

"Have you ever done something spontaneous?" Gabriella asked out of the blue one day as they collectively stared at the trees, blowing gently in the February wind.

"Of course. Haven't you?"

Troy assumed the obvious answer was yes. Everybody did something spontaneous at least once in their life. When Troy was ten, he walked to the very same park that they were at now to meet up with his friends by himself, without permission. When Troy was thirteen, he spontaneously kissed Shelley Heyman behind the field house. When he was seventeen, he and his best friend drove two hours to a concert only to overpay a scalper for some shitty nosebleed seats. They weren't necessarily the best decisions but he couldn't say he regretted them.

"Nope."

"You're kidding."

No one was that responsible. And as anal retentive as Gabriella seemed, she must've done something without planning or thinking. Skipping a class, running away from home. Something, anything but as he watched her facial expression closely, he realized that she wasn't joking.

"Absolutely nothing." She looked sad in a way. And Troy kind of felt bad for her. Not that he pitied her, it just seemed like she missed out on a lot of life experiences with all that she'd already told him about her life. Moving all the time, not having a father, no wonder she came out so cynical.

"Smoking?"

"Does four days of deliberation qualify as spontaneous?" She asked ruefully. It was true. Damien offered multiple times before to the point where Gabriella drew up a mental pro/con list. Pro: it was a stress-reliever. Con: two words - Lung. Cancer. Pro: He would stop bugging her. Con: It smelled awful. Pro: The smell alone would piss her mom off. Eventually the pros won. Man, her life was pathetic.

"Well I think it's high time you change that." He joked. He wasn't serious but apparently Gabriella took him as such. She gave him a long hard look through narrowed eyes, and he could practically see the wheels turning in that pretty little head of hers.

"You're right." She announced.

Without another word, she got up off the bench and ran to the grassy edge of the lake. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. And another deep breath in. Then she chickened out, her mind racing with logical reasons she should forget about it. Her shirt was dry clean only and wet jeans were so gross and...no, this was the kind of thinking she was trying to get away from. Impulsivity. Why was this so hard?

As if struck by sudden inspiration, she turned back to see Troy watching her from the bench, in a mixture of confusion and shock.

"Jump with me." She shouted.

"You're insane. Certifiably. That water is probably forty degrees." Troy protested, looking like he didn't know whether to join her or call the people with the white lab coats and butterfly nets to come and collect their newest patient.

"I'm being spontaneous." Gabriella laughed, feeling free for the first time in a while. All she wanted was someone to share in her ecstasy.

Troy looked ambivalent. Between his mental health and her mental health. Eventually, something tipped the scales and he joined her. They peeled off their shoes and socks and looked down at the blue waters. The good news was that it didn't look too deep.

"Ready?" She held out a hand for him to take which he clasped tightly.

"Ready." He confirmed.

"On the count of three." She prompted. "One, two..."

Before she could get to three, Troy pulled on her arm and brought her screaming and splashing into the ice cold waters. Troy resurfaced before Gabriella did, shaking his hair out of his vision. Laughing, he reached blindly for Gabriella whose hands took a hold of his arm while she worked to stay afloat.

"You're evil." She sputtered at him, wiping her sopping wet ebony curls out of her face.

"You wanted spontaneous." He laughed.

"I did." She agreed, joining him in his laughter. She was never really angry to begin with. "Thanks for doing this with me."

Surprisingly, she was completely sincere.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be." He told her, matching her candor.

* * *

It took weeks but finally, Troy and Gabriella established something that resembled a friendship. Troy's questions hadn't ceased in the slightest though.

"So you're a student at East High? That's where I went."

She nodded in affirmation then put her thoughtful face on. Tilting her head back to rest on the bench, she bit her lip and started speaking. "Do you think we would have been friends if we were in the same class?"

He let out a small bark of laughter. "Not a chance in hell." He said with a touch of pessimism.

He turned to look at Gabriella. Her face was scrunched up, looking distraught and mildly offended. Troy quickly backtracked as fast as he could. "Oh wow, that sounded so much worse than I intended." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I didn't mean it like, I wouldn't _want_ to be friends with you it's just...you have something about you. Like you're, I don't know," He paused, studying her, trying to sum her up in one word. She stared at him, eyebrows raised, curious as to how he was going to go about this.

"Untouchable or something."

"Untouchable?" Her confusion didn't fade one iota.

"You've this gorgeous smart girl thing going on. It's intimidating when it seems like every guy with an IQ smaller than Einstein's would be a colossal waste of your energy. You wouldn't have given high school me the time of day." He expanded, hoping to make her understand. "The guy whose only contribution to the school was being basketball captain. Hell, the only reason you're stuck with me now is our mutual obstinacy."

She nodded in understanding. His readily apparent modesty made Gabriella melt the teensiest bit. Her mocha eyes smiled at Troy. "For the record, I would have been thrilled if the East High basketball captain even talked to me at school."

"I'm talking to you now aren't I?"

"That you are." She giggled, looking at her hands folded in her lap.

* * *

So this is what disappointment felt like, Gabriella thought as she stood a little ways away from the bench.

From behind, she could see Troy sitting in their usual spot, accompanied by another girl. A blonde, a gorgeous blonde in a stylish pink top. A pink and white tote beside her had a high-pitched yap. If this was the kind of girl that Troy was interested in, Gabriella had no shot at all.

The realization hit her like a speeding truck. Did she even want a shot? Much to her amazement, the answer wasn't no. Why wasn't it? Gabriella considered it. He was cute, sweet and open. He was the kind of perfect guy that didn't exist out of cheesy, unrealistic Nicholas Sparks' novels.

_Oh God_. She hadn't legitimately had romantic feelings for a guy since she believed in bullshit like "happily ever after" and "soul mates". _This was not good._

Without thinking, Gabriella ran away from the park and their bench. Sprinting as fast as her long legs would take her, she ran all the way home and burst in through the front door, huffing and panting.

"What are you doing here?" Her mother asked as Gabriella walked past her open office on her way to her room.

"I live here don't I?" Gabriella asked belligerently.

"Yes but," her mother began hesitantly, "you're usually out this time on Sundays."

"Well I'm not out today. It's not like it's a big deal." Gabriella rolled her eyes, making her way upstairs so she could sulk in private.

"If you say so. But...you'd tell me if something was wrong, right sweetheart?"

"Of course Mom," Gabriella said in monotone. She was clearly asking out of politeness more than anything else. Gabriella knew her mom didn't actually want to know what's wrong.

"Well, alright." And for just once, Gabriella wished that she could have a mom that cared. A mom that would poke and prod to a fault but that Gabriella could confide her secrets in for some of that brilliant mother to daughter advice that TV was raving about.

Just once.

* * *

"Missed you last week." Was the first thing Troy said to her when she sat next to him the following Sunday as Gabriella approached their bench.

Gabriella shrugged. She debated not coming at all but she absolutely refused to let some stupid guy take away her happy place. Who said that two people couldn't sit on the same bench without talking? "Is that so?" She said simply, hoping that this conversation could end soon.

"Yeah, gets pretty lonely when you're all by yourself." He joked with his usual charming smile that usually had Gabriella melting in second. But now her willpower was stronger and she wasn't going to fold.

"But you weren't." She pointed out, against her better judgement. _Don't let him know you care_, her inner voice was telling her. _Never let them know you care_. It was a tried-and-true method.

"Weren't what?" Bless his little (tiny, freaking microscopic and practically non-existent) heart, he really sounded like he had no idea what she was talking about.

"By yourself. You had that leggy blonde and her Paris Hilton dog accessory to keep you company." She reminded him, as much as she wished that she didn't have to.

Troy laughed out loud and Gabriella frowned in dismay. That certainly didn't bode well for his perfect guy image.

"That's just Sharpay. She's a high school friend, nothing more." Troy informed her, mentally willing her frown to vanish. But alas, to no avail. In fact, she was steadily avoiding his eyes. What was it with this girl – it was like five steps forward then five miles back. That's how exaggerated it was.

"Oh." Gabriella nodded, her mind completely elsewhere. Monosyllables usually stalled a conversation nicely. It's what she did every time she wasn't interested in a conversation.

Troy looked mystified by her stand-offish behavior. "Is something wrong?" He asked, furrowing his brow. "Did I do something to make you mad?"

"Nope." But that was so far from the truth. His friends were always telling him that whenever a girl said "no", she meant "yes". Troy had never really believed that they could be so deceptive until today. Gabriella's hostility could be sensed from miles away.

Was she mad about Sharpay? Just in case, he covered that base as soon as he could. "Well, before you get any ideas, I don't like her like that. She's practically engaged to someone else already." He said honestly.

"Good for her." Did she believe him? It sure didn't sound like she did.

"I like someone else." He said, trying to gauge her reaction a little more but her face remained annoyingly impassive. Gabriella should have known that he would be ridiculously persistent. Who else would strike up a conversation with a total stranger just to get his bench back?

Suddenly she was wishing that she had found an entirely different place to be by herself. Wasn't that was she was looking for, a place for her solitude? She should have left the second her solitude was invaded.

_Oh hindsight,_ she thought,_ how convenient you are._

Too late for that.

_You don't care, you don't care._ Gabriella kept repeating this to herself like an anti-boy mantra. "Ya don't say." Sarcasm practically dripping from her words, Gabriella turned her head until she was facing in the opposite direction of Troy. Maybe if she couldn't see his beautiful face, she could retain her tough-as-nails resolve.

"Don't you want to know who it is?" His voice sounded so tantalizing, but Gabriella didn't even want to imagine how much it would hurt if he spilled his heart to her about another girl. When did they enter this just-friends zone? She knew they were friends but not of the "sharing of love lives" sort.

"If I say no, will that actually prevent you from telling me?" She asked, not even bothering to hide her snark.

Troy growled. "Will you just look at me please?" He demanded, frustrated by her lack of cooperation.

She sighed and reluctantly met his pleading eyes. Before she had time to say anything, she was met with his lips pressing against hers. Her eyes closed reflexively despite her surprise. It was a nice kiss, not too demanding but slow and sweet. Gabriella couldn't remember any of her other kisses being this enjoyable.

He separated their mouths, breathing heavily. He swallowed, practically waiting for Gabriella to slap him and report him to the police for sexual harassment. That never happened. Instead, she cupped his jaw with her soft, delicate hand and kissed him again. He could feel her smiling against his lips and he couldn't say he wasn't doing the same.

Lazily, Troy reconnected their lips one last time before he pulled away from the kiss with a shit-eating grin, his azure eyes sparking at her teasingly.

"What?" She asked, touching her face self-consciously.

"For now on, this is our spot." He said softly to her.

She burst out laughing as Troy began to wonder if what he just said was incredibly stupid. It sounded charming and romantic when he thought it.

Gabriella giggled and gave Troy another quick peck. "Wasn't it always?"

* * *

**A/N**: I actually finished something that I started, aren't you proud? Yeah, I've started like five or six other stories without finishing them. So I'm actually pretty happy with this for once.

Review please. Oh and if you find any errors, tell me, pretty please?

Thanks for reading.


End file.
